


Tonight I Am New

by Shiverslightly



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cunnilingus, F/F, Face-Sitting, Fem Sheith, Fingerfucking, Fluff and Smut, Genderswap, Hopeful Ending, Nipple Play, One Night Stands, POV Alternating, Strangers to Lovers, but not, fem!sheith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:34:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22423420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiverslightly/pseuds/Shiverslightly
Summary: Keith turns her face beneath her gaze, red creeping down to her chest. “Are you just going to stare?” she teases but it’s breathless.If Shiro could, she certainly would. Keith is a vision that deserves to be worshipped.”You’re so beautiful,” she can’t help but say.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 117





	Tonight I Am New

**Author's Note:**

> Ever since reading Vilna’s amazing [Can’t wait to get hurt](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20505167/chapters/48662135), I’ve become obsessed with fem!sheith. So here’s my attempt at some soft, spicy, lovely ladies.
> 
> The pov switches between Keith and Shiro and you’ll know it by the page breaks. Enjoy :)

Keith knows what she wants. What she came here for.

She watches them on the dance floor. Bodies twisting and lights flashing; a deep beat pulsing through the heavy air. From her perch at the bar, with legs crossed and high waisted shorts tucked over a loose fitting shirt, the leather jacket slipping from her shoulders, she knows the image she gives. The kind of girl she wants to attract.

They never come to her but that’s okay. It’s part of the thrill. First they catch her eye, maybe smile a little. Continue to dance with their friends just a bit more showy than before, glancing her way as though they don’t know she’s still watching.

It’s almost too easy.

Usually.

But tonight they’re just not connecting.

A glance at her phone tells her it’s getting late and she’s restless beneath her skin. She uncrosses and recrosses her legs and thinks that it might be time to cast a wider net when a whiskey sour comes her way, the bartender pointing over to a large, ripped woman at the end of the bar. Keith nods but she doesn’t engage.

The woman is broader than Keith’s normal type. Taller too. With hair so light it reflects the strobing kaleidoscope of colours around her. Keith feels the warmth of her smile from here and suspects she might be softer than she looks. A teddy bear wrapped within a tank. Which is kind of hot — _she’s_ definitely hot — just not for Keith, so her returning smile is polite but cool before she turns her attention back to the floor.

The woman at the bar doesn’t move, only tilts her head, hair falling loose and into bright eyes. Her smile fading just a little.

Like Keith thought, a teddy bear.

Keith’s eyes roam through the crowd, the gifted drink pooling nice and hot in her belly. Where once the floor was fully packed, now it starts to thin. Couples leaving and getting handsy, girls with too many drinks and not enough sense being herded away by their friends. Truthfully, none of them really spark an interest. An increasingly common occurrence that’s left Keith frustrated and unsatisfied. The last girl she took home had hardly had brains, but she let Keith fuck her fast and rough and that should’ve been enough. Should have lasted Keith a lot longer than it did.

She finishes her drink, letting it fall with too much force and removing her coat now that the liquor’s left her warm. Impatiently, she tugs at the strands of hair escaped from her ponytail, blowing at the shorter pieces around her face in a huff. One of the bartenders has only just removed her glass when another gets set down before her.

Same as the first. A whisky sour.

Eyes snapping up, they land on the teddy bear. Still in the same spot, same position, same smile. Same thoughtful expression as she raises her glass to toast. Feeling bratty, Keith quirks her lips and salutes, grin turning devious as she throws back her head to finish the drink in two smooth gulps. She licks her lips, makes it a show, stares at the woman who smiles wider and motions two fingers towards a bartender. There’s a smoldering glint in her eye; a challenge. The hairs along Keith’s neck prickle. 

When the bartender brings two drinks, teddy bear finishes her other, grabbing them and standing with a grace that shouldn’t be possible for someone her size. She’s wearing a tight, dark jumpsuit clinging to thighs twice as thick as Keith’s and riding snug against a sculpted ass that’s only just in view. Muscles have never really been Keith’s thing, but god _damn_ on the right person...

The woman’s gaze sweeps over her as she approaches, Keith left fighting against the need to squirm underneath such heavy approval. There’s a spark that grows the closer she gets, the name of a feeling Keith can’t place because it’s been so long since she’s felt it until the woman sits beside her, offering a glass wrapped in thick fingers and simply says, “Hi,” in a voice that’s low and tempting.

Excitement.

That’s what Keith feels when she lets their fingers brush together, a pleasant buzz beneath her nails as they clink against skin and glass. 

“Hey,” she says, removing the drink from her grasp.

She’s still not her type, this woman whose smile looks less sweet and more desiring now that she’s close. Keith’s not necessarily big herself but she’s always preferred her partners smaller and softer. Yet as the woman watches her mouth tease at the rim of her glass in almost predatorial intensity, she shivers. Sensing a hint of strength and power and realizing she might not be the teddy bear Keith pegged her for.

Surprisingly _hoping_ that she’s not.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” Keith asks.

The woman chuckles, a soft rumbling that almost gets lost beneath the swell of music. Keith leans closer.

“No. But you looked like you could use them.”

Keith hums, taking another sip, allowing herself to look her fill.

There’s a scar across the woman’s nose, old and not deterring from her beauty in the slightest. Instead it only adds to her charm, creating a contrast between rough and soft when the fringe of her eyelashes curl so pretty around stark grey eyes. Her cheekbones high and little flushed.

“I’m Shiro,” the woman says and extends her hand.

It feels natural for Keith to take it. To let the touch linger so her tingling warmth can sink all the way to Keith’s toes. Her whole body lighting up with it. “Keith.”

 _“Keith,”_ Shiro repeats. “It’s nice to meet you.”

She wants to respond but she’s suddenly stuck. Caught on the way her name sounds from Shiro’s lips. Supple and full and heavy with implication.

When Keith blinks back to herself Shiro’s still talking and she nods along like she knows where they’re at until Shiro finishes with, “what about you?”

“Sorry?”

Shiro smiles, if she notices Keith’s fluster she doesn’t comment. “I was saying, I don’t usually do this.” When she looks at Keith, her eyes are wide and honest. 

Keith furrows her brow. “Do what?”

Shiro dips her head but keeps eye contact. “Buy drinks for pretty girls like you.”

And that’s…

Well, objectively Keith knows she’s nice to look at, but the compliment brings heat to her face and she tries to hide behind her glass. Not sounding nearly as smooth as she wants when she asks. “No?”

“Not usually.”

A hand reaches out, slow enough that Keith could move away but that’s not what she wants. She can already feel the zap of electricity stretching to pull their forces together. Lightly, Shiro traces her fingers against her bicep and over the tattoo that adorns it. The dark, shaded knife taking up most of its length. Her thumb brushes along the bed of wild desert flowers it lies upon, touching over the symbol at its hilt that Keith still doesn’t know what it means, even after years of research. 

“This is beautiful,” Shiro murmurs. And then, like an afterthought, “You’re beautiful.”

“Well,” Keith simmers, determined to gain back her bearing, “you’re not so bad yourself.”

She brings her hand down on Shiro’s knee, lets her thumb rub with intention along the ridge of her inner thigh. Shiro’s lips part just a fraction, enough for Keith to see how her chest rises with a quick intake of air. She slides her palm a little higher, gets further into Shiro’s space. “Do you have any tattoos?”

Shiro’s jumpsuit covers almost all of her. Except for the neckline that plunges enough to reveal the healthy swell of Shiro’s breasts. There’s no ink there — Keith’s already checked them thoroughly — but she’s willing to bet Shiro’s the kind of girl to have something somewhere.

The silky fabric slips beneath Keith’s grasp as Shiro flexes her thigh. It brings her hand even higher.

“I might,” Shiro says. Her own fingers now playing with the hem of her shirt sleeve. “But we'd have to go somewhere else for me to show you.”

It takes a moment for Keith to remember where they are. Shiro’s touch and gaze and the way she feels under Keith’s hand having blocked everything else out. As it leeches back in, the music becomes too loud, the lights too bright and flashy. That she doesn’t have Shiro all to herself suddenly feels like a travesty.

“My place is close,” Keith hurries. “Maybe you could show me there?”

Shiro takes a breath, fingers curling around her arm and Keith has a moment where she worries she’s pushed too fast but when Shiro meets her eyes they’re dark and wanting.

“Yeah,” she whispers. “I could do that.”

* * *

They tumble through Keith’s door, hitting a coat rack and bouncing off. Legs tangling and nails raking and Shiro braces as best she can but it’s hard to think when the spitfire between her arms sucks on her tongue like _that._ Licking and biting into her mouth. Moaning rough and filthy.

Her waist fits perfectly in Shiro’s hands. Her cloying scent drips in treacled thickness. She’s everywhere and hard to contain and Shiro wants with a fierceness sharp as a knife.

Keith’s apartment was literally blocks from the club. On a cold, clear night full of stars and the only thing Shiro could do was clench her fists to keep from touching, but the moment the doors of Keith’s elevator closed what little patience Shiro had left was out.

She pulls the tie from Keith’s dark hair and brings her close. Imagines what it’ll be like to taste her skin and make her beg. Clenches with a need to hear this woman cry her name.

Her fingers slip to Keith’s neck, tugging at the hole of her oversized shirt. Fabric rends from stitch and she’d apologize if Keith’s answering moan wasn’t already shaking. Instead she ducks and sucks a mark, unable to control the force with which she bites. Hard teeth in yielding softness. Half crescents set in skin. 

Shiro tries to crowd her up the wall, attempts to pin that squirming body, but suddenly Keith spins, pressing Shiro back instead. Her full weight leaning in with speed and whipcord strength.

This girl is unbelievable.

Shiro wasn’t lying when she told her she doesn’t do this, but fuck is she glad she’s doing it now. No one pushes Shiro around like this. No one’s even tried. Keith does it so smooth, so easy. If Shiro hadn’t already started to slick at the bar now would be the time to flood.

“Bedroom’s this way,” Keith gasps but Shiro pulls tighter. Rubs her prosthetic down Keith’s side and cups a perfect, peachy cheek.

Keith parts her legs and presses down, grinds herself on Shiro’s thigh. It’s clear she’s done this plenty of times, her air and movements a fluid practice. At the bar, Keith had lounged in perfect ease and it makes Shiro tense with a jealousy she has no right to, and yet when Keith breaks away and leads her to her room she pins Keith to the mattress as soon as she can. An ugly possessiveness taking over.

She yanks Keith’s shirt from the waist of her shorts, dips a hand to paw her ribs. There’s nothing there, no bra, no wrap — Shiro knew that there wasn’t — and the expanse of skin beneath her palm is nothing short of exquisite. Keith wriggles to get closer, gasping when Shiro drops her weight to do the same. Her lips are plush and bitten red, her eyes like pools of moonless sky. Her ferocious beauty a luminous explosion.

Pushing at Keith’s loosened shirt, she rasps, “Can I—?”

Keith nods before she’s even finished.

Pressing a kiss to Keith’s parted mouth, she grabs her shirt and guides it over head and shoulders and then Keith’s laid bare beneath her; hair a mess, skin soft. Shiro runs her hands in gentle awe, her quiet reverence exposing too much. The _wow_ that slips not helping either.

Keith turns her face beneath her gaze, red creeping down to her chest. “Are you just going to stare?” she teases but it’s breathless.

If Shiro could, she certainly would. Keith is a vision that deserves to be worshipped.

“You’re so beautiful,” she can’t help but say, needing to touch her again like she did at the bar. The pads of her fingers grazing collarbones and dipping down within their hollows.

Arching up into Shiro’s hands, Keith whines and burrows into her pillow. _“Shiro.”_

Shiro’s mouth descends, kissing each clavicle light as a feather then skimming up along Keith’s neck. She takes Keith’s flesh between her teeth, listens to her breathy whines and moves from jaw to pulse. Her hands questing, seeking skin, skating the top of Keith’s high shorts.

Keith starts to shake beneath her, legs coming up along with her arms. When Shiro’s hips push against Keith’s heat she keens a desperate sound muffled through bedding.

Shiro pulls back, letting Keith rub against her. “I want to hear you,” she says and turns Keith’s cheek to face her.

Keith looks cornered, her breasts rising with the heave of her chest. She shudders when Shiro cups her breast, licks her lips as Shiro squeezes. Mesmerized, Shiro swipes a thumb over her nipple and watches her gasp. Her mouth watering as she rolls the bud beneath her hand and sees it peak and pebble.

Nails dig into her shoulders, set the scar tissue across her back aflame. It should hurt but it doesn’t, only revs her up as she skates that line between pain and pleasure. Her lips close around Keith’s nipple, her tongue curls.

“Ungh,” Keith cries and strokes herself hard against Shiro. The fabric between them not hiding her wetness.

She’s so fucking soaked it makes Shiro dizzy.

Makes her nip and suck Keith’s nipple into her mouth, her fingers mercilessly pinching and playing with the other. The noise Keith makes in return indescribable.

Shiro gets ravenous. Circling; kneading. Slurping; laving. She alternates between breasts. Bites their swell and suckles the crest. Nuzzles in and hums with contented euphoria. And Keith writhes like a beast untamed. If it wasn’t for Shiro’s bulk she’d buck her off but instead it only drives them closer; spreading fever where they ache.

Not leaving Keith’s chest, Shiro goes for her shorts. Each button taking forever and she yanks with impatience, maybe even growls. Keith’s claws retract from her skin as she scrambles to help, pushing at the fabric like it’s offensive. Shiro is wont to agree because it stands between her and a slick so sweet she can smell it when Keith frees herself. Thick and heady. Instantly familiar, yet entirely Keith’s own.

She smells like need; like promise.

“Keith,” she says, scratching at the patch of dark, black curls. _“Please.”_

Keith doesn’t even speak, just grabs Shiro’s arm and shoves until her fingers slip into rich, molten heat; folds parting and easily accepting.

“Fuck,” Keith hisses, pressing Shiro down where she suckles with one hand and gripping relentlessly at her forearm with the other.

Shiro rubs her soft at first; exploratory. Coats herself in Keith’s insatiable need and glides just past where she’s wanted. She doesn’t push against her throbbing clit, doesn’t delve into soft, fluttering heat. No, Shiro takes her time, savouring the moment.

The girl beneath her. The volcanic lightning between them. The power that comes with having Keith pinned and at her mercy.

With a last nip, she bites Keith’s nipple and pulls it as she leans back, Keith’s cry almost enough to have her diving in for more. She grabs Keith’s leg still wrapped around her waist and gently pries it free; touch turning rough as she forces her knee into the mattress, folding Keith wide with Shiro braced above. Everything wet and on display.

“Fuck,” Shiro echoes because this is life altering.

Light from the window falls over Keith, flashing her eyes almost purple. She’s spread and waiting; curls dripping. Her nipples swollen and belly taught. Her thigh trembles beneath Shiro’s hand that wraps almost the entire width. When Shiro reaches to cup her mound, she grinds her palm against Keith’s clit and finally guides a finger home.

Keith yelps and scrambles for purchase within the sheets, immediately rolling into her hand in a sinuous slide that plumps her pearl and forces a shudder. She’s silk and oiled and fucking incredible. Spongy walls clenched and caressing, rhythmically pulsing as if to draw Shiro deeper. Shiro strokes a steady in and out, eyes glued to the way Keith moves like water. Drowning Shiro’s lungs.

“More,” Keith gasps and pulls at her hair, bracing down and fucking Shiro’s hand. Their eyes meet. “Please.”

Shiro groans, leans her weight against Keith’s knee and tastes her salty, sweaty navel. She adds a finger and starts to get greedy. Drops her palm from over Keith’s clit but slides her thumb against the button on every thrust; her cunt opening beautifully.

She kisses the valley of Keith’s hard stomach, gnaws along the bone of her hip. Works her hand in a punishing pace that Keith throws herself to meet; rocking against a bed that’s starting to groan in protest. Bruises bloom beneath Shiro’s lips, red and shining in the light. The proof that she was here and owning shoring up her satisfaction.

“Oh… shit, _shit.”_ Keith starts to babble beneath her, her voice gone up in octave. The faster Shiro drives the higher strung she gets.

Shiro twists her fingers and fucks Keith like she means it. Nails teasing her frontal wall and over the spot that makes Keith sing. Striking hard to a chorus of sinful squelching; losing herself in the filthy soundtrack. 

She’s sucking on Keith’s inner thigh, just about to take it lower when Keith starts to stutter. “I… I have… a strap—” she starts but breaks off on a moan.

Shiro pries her mouth to look at Keith. Turns her movements deep and precise.

“You want me to fuck you?” she says with a smirk. “Or are you asking to fuck _me?”_

“N _ngh,”_ Keith garbles, her eyes bugging out. Shiro rubs and teases against her spot, doesn’t give Keith a second to focus. “You’d… let me?”

God, the things Shiro would let her do.

Shiro surges up to hover over, to look at Keith and keep her gaze when she says with feeling, “Yeah baby, I’d take your cock.”

As she says it, she plugs more fingers into Keith’s sopping cunt, sinking as far as they can go. Keith curses her name and it’s just as lovely as she imagined. She leans in close, bites at the lobe of Keith’s ear who’s breathing goes erratic.

“Would you take me like this?” Shiro whispers. “Pin me down and fuck me hard?”

Keith holds tight around her shoulders.

“Or should I get on my knees? Have you mount me and make me yours?”

_“Fuck.”_

She knows Keith’s close, almost there. Can feel the shift in her pulsing walls.

“Of course I’d let you.” Her forearm burns but in the best way.

Keith’s falling apart, unable to breathe. Gulping for air and mouthing at Shiro’s shoulder to stop the wailing she’s started to make. Sweat drips from Shiro’s chin, carving a line down Keith’s long neck.

She gets in tight, lips brushing, and breathes, “I’d let you do _anything.”_

Driving in hard, she curls her fingers and milks. Holds Keith down while she thrashes the sheets and swallows her cry. Shiro fingers her through orgasm, licking her pleasure straight from her mouth. Keith’s broken sobs a taste of ecstasy that leaves Shiro throbbing against nothing. But the woman under her is so consuming, so completely delicious, that it’s almost enough to get her there too. 

When Keith starts to whimper Shiro stops, keeping her fingers inside and pressing quick kisses beneath Keith’s jaw and against her cheek. Her eyelids try to flutter open and when they do she looks more dazed than fully there. Slowly, Shiro withdraws her hand, wiping it on the bedding and bringing it up to sweep along Keith’s damp face. Gently, she rolls to the side.

Shiro watches her for signs of discomfort but when Keith finally finds her gaze, her lips part and speak in utter wonder.

“Holy. _Shit.”_

* * *

“Holy shit,” Keith says and means it.

Like Holy. Motherfucking. Shit.

Shiro looks at her almost shyly. “Is that a good holy shit?” she asks, with a hesitant smile.

Keith snorts. That teddy bear look is back, but now she knows better. Shiro’s not a teddy bear, she’s a sex goddess. Or at least a sexual conqueror. Chock full of first rate dirty talk and mind blowing prowess.

She laughs at Shiro and smiles back. “What d’you think?”

Her lower half still tingles. Her heart still beats too fast.

Her limbs are like jelly but still she wants like she never has with anyone before. It’s persistent and terrifying. As unstoppable as her orgasm had been when Shiro started whispering low and filthy.

Keith’s heart gives a kick to see Shiro stretched beside her. Soft silver hair framing her face, full breasts squished together and flushed like her cheeks. At Keith’s admission her smile turns smug and it sets a frenzy within Keith’s chest, ricochetes against her ribs.

She’s still fully dressed yet exceptionally debauched. A sheen of sweat around her neck, her pupils blown to black. Unraveled on her is a glorious look but Keith wants to see her completely undone.

“Off,” she says, hooking a finger in the vee of Shiro’s jumper. Letting it graze against Shiro’s chest as she tugs her close to get at the zipper.

Immediately, Shiro buries herself in Keith’s neck, inhaling and mouthing at the skin still prickling there. “Are you going to fuck me now?” she asks in a voice so full of dark intentions Keith groans.

And if Shiro hadn't just ruined her with tongue and fingers Keith would be there in a heartbeat, but the oxytocin has left her spacey and when Keith fucks Shiro she wants to give it _everything._

“Next time,” Keith promises and dives her hands beneath the zipper to fill each one with a handful of ass.

Shiro’s so toned they’re a hefty weight; perky and bouncy when Keith kneads. Shiro moans into her shoulder, grabbing onto Keith’s own and bringing them flush together. Keith scrapes her teeth against Shiro’s neck, reluctantly letting go to pull Shiro’s clothes from her body. To leave her propped on an elbow in nothing but a demi cup bra and red laced thong. Keith never imagined a woman so tall and fit could be such a sight. It’s something she probably should’ve known, but to see it like this is a revelation.

She’s helplessly drawn. Hands caressing every inch of skin and arms and abs. She plants her face right where she’s wanted to ever since the bar, right between Shiro’s big tits and maybe can’t stop the pleased little hum that rumbles her throat. Her fingers tease at nipples; plucking at Shiro through her bralette as she searches for the clasp in the middle. 

And when they’re revealed, when those large, naked titties pillow Keith’s head, she sucks on them both and pulls Shiro’s leg over her hip so Shiro’s left straddling and rubbing herself all over Keith’s thigh. From the way Shiro keens, Keith bets she could come just from this, but Keith has messier plans.

“Sit—” Keith gasps when she breaks for air. Shiro catches her eyes, tilts her head in question but drops her mouth on a sensuous grind. “—sit on my face.”

She didn’t think Shiro’s eyes could get darker but they do in that moment, changing from coal to obsidian. Without a word, Shiro starts to slide her panties down but Keith pins her hands.

“Leave them on,” she rasps. Delighting in the shiver Shiro can’t hide.

Shiro’s careful with it. Again with that grace one wouldn’t expect from a woman so powerful. She rests her hands on the headboard of Keith’s shitty bed and perches over Keith’s face like a dream; most of her weight held within hard thighs that give Keith the perfect view.

She’s pink and swollen from her tribbing. Fat lips sucking the red string of her thong tight. Keith lifts her hand, takes her thumb and slides it between the sopping string and soft folds, peeling it aside. Shiro groans above her. Thumb still hooked, Keith digs her fingers next to Shiro’s heat and pries.

She doesn’t tease like she was teased; can hardly wait another second when she licks a stripe from cunt to clit. Shiro tastes as sharp as she’d hoped; a tart sweetness thickly oozing from the hole Keith fucks her tongue into.

“Hnng… Keith.”

Her arms wrap beneath thick thighs to bring Shiro down against her mouth. She sucks at Shiro’s juice; laps across her cherry. Uses her hold to move Shiro’s hips and grind her face in folds so wet they drip along her cheeks. Shiro’s still trying to keep herself balanced, the headboard creaking as her grip splinters, but when Keith whines as she starts to lift, she thinks she finally gets the hint. Her weight drops and a hand grips Keith’s hair and pulls. Keeping her over a puffy clit as Shiro starts to roll.

Shiro gasps as she circles, using Keith’s eager tongue to smear honeyed slick and Keith is gone. She’s over warm and sticky, pinned beneath wicked curves; can just make out Shiro’s face past her jiggling breasts. She’s fisting Shiro’s thong close to breaking. Moaning like whore.

 _“Keith,”_ Shiro whispers over and over. Hips jerking, hand twitching.

Keith uses her fingers to keep Shiro spread, flicks her tongue and latches on to Shiro’s clit. It’s quick and dirty, the way she suctions hard enough to feel it pulse. Shiro’s panting cuts abruptly and her body starts to seize. Keith eats her up and doesn’t stop, slicking a finger to slide it down the crack of Shiro’s ass. Helplessly jerking, Shiro’s trapped in her hold and when Keith’s finger just breaches the back she comes with a keening, startled shout. Her cunt gushing over Keith’s mouth.

This is heaven, Keith thinks, releasing Shiro’s clit when her sounds turned pained. Eventually Shiro tries to pull away and it’s such a shame that Keith reflexively grabs tighter to lick one last time.

“Uhn,” Shiro whines. She yanks on Keith’s hair to rip her away and the fucking strength this woman has is decimating.

Addicting.

One night is not enough.

Keith gazes at her while Shiro looks down with lidded eyes and a splotchy face. Her lip is caught between her teeth, her weight wobbling on trembling knees. Keith moves without thinking, sliding her hands up over her thighs and grasping her sides. She helps Shiro down as she stretches luxuriously and lets Keith draw her near.

“Hey,” Keith whispers. Her fingers card through Shiro’s hair, half tucking it behind an ear.

When Shiro hums she sounds like a cat, pleased and definitely with all the cream. It’s so easy for Keith to lean up and kiss her. A soft press, the lightest yet. Keith’s eyes fall closed, her heart flutters. She’s snug and warm and dangerously happy.

“All good?” she asks. Though she’s fairly certain Shiro enjoyed it, there’s still a worry she may have pushed too far.

But Shiro smiles at her, expression softly amused and it’s devastating. She’s the loveliest thing Keith’s ever seen and she’s lucky — so damn lucky that this beautiful person deemed _her_ worthy. 

Because Keith knows it’s not usually like this. Has had enough one night stands in her limited existence to know that _this here_ is something else. She never wants to kiss or snuggle after. And she definitely never smiles back so tragically enamoured. This is _rare_ and _new_ and that excitement rushes back so fast she can hardly breathe.

Shiro drops her eyes to Keith’s chin where her slick still cools and quirks an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

It should be cheesy. No, damn it, it _is_ cheesy to have her words parroted back but it’s also perfection and Keith’s too blissed from having thighs the size of tree trunks wrapped around her ears to fight it.

So she hides her smile past Shiro’s shoulder, not so subtly dropping another kiss through her silky hair, and pulls her tight on top of her with Shiro’s size a comforting weight through the silence that's also a comfort. 

They lie that way for a while. Keith’s fingers absently tracing across broad shoulders; Shiro resting her head over Keith’s chest and counting heartbeats. The world outside continues on but here they lay anew. Two separate bodies pressed in lines that start to blur.

“So…” Shiro offers into the quiet, “you mentioned maybe a next time?” It sounds like she’s aiming for casual but Keith can hear the squeak of uncertainty.

Truthfully, she feels it too. The fear of trying, of failing. Or maybe of falling so deep that to climb her way back would feel impossible. Keith may be many things, but a coward is not one of them. She wraps her hand around Shiro’s arm and quietly speaks without hesitation.

“With you, I’d take as many times as I can get.”

Lifting her head to look at Keith, Shiro’s smile spreads across her face like dawn breaking the horizon. Pinks and golds bathing them both. “Yeah? Does that mean I can take you out to dinner sometime?”

Humming, Keith reaches over to grab the blankets and pulls them up nice and slow. “What about breakfast?”

Shiro snuggles closer, smiling so wide it shifts Keith’s gravity. She takes Keith’s hand and gives it a squeeze. Gazes at her with newfound hope and twines their fingers while sinking into the crook of Keith’s neck.

“Breakfast then.”

Later, well into the early morning when Keith briefly wakes to spoon herself against Shiro’s back, she catches a glimpse of a dark tattoo curling from Shiro’s tailbone. Tomorrow, Keith thinks, and grins. Then falls asleep with Shiro’s pulse pressed beneath her hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/shiverslightly)!


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